


Late Night Rituals

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crack, Funny, Gen, Hair, Silly, and Lestrade, complete and utter, hair maitenance, mentions of Moriarty - Freeform, so stupid, surprise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 17:49:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2034345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Sherlock! There’s a case! It’s Mor-“</p>
<p>Sherlock was sitting in his chair, facing a mirror fixed on the wall. His head whipped around and stared at John with wide eyes. He clearly wasn’t expecting to be interrupted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late Night Rituals

John barrelled through the door of Baker Street, running up the stairs two at a time. It was late and he had been coming back from a night out with Stamford when he heard the news. What he and Sherlock did for a living was insane, dangerous, bat crap crazy, and… it was exactly what John lived for. Lestrade had texted him since Sherlock was too damn lazy to look at his own phone himself. It was Moriarty. He was back in business and his henchman had taken a working chocolate factory (bat crap crazy, right?) hostage. Their only demand: Sherlock Holmes.

  
Panting hard, John charged through the flat, calling out Sherlock’s name. He saw his phone lying on the couch; he must have not realized it’d gone off, John thought. He searched every room and stopped, noticing there was music playing. He heard the sound of a violin flitting out from Sherlock’s shut bedroom door. John burst into the room without a second thought and saw something he would not have ever expected to see.  
  
“Sherlock! There’s a case! It’s Mor-“  
  
Sherlock was sitting in his chair, facing a mirror fixed on the wall. His head whipped around and stared at John with wide eyes. He clearly wasn’t expecting to be interrupted. The classical music coming from a gramophone ( _where did he get that?_ John thought) finished with gentle flourish and the flat became filled with a stunned silence. The traffic outside hushed into nothing. John didn’t say anything, but a blush crept up his neck and to his cheeks. His eyes didn’t leave Sherlock, whom had visibly paled.  
  
Sherlock had his arms reached up to his head and was wrapping purple curlers into his ebony hair. There were already two on the side of his head and was just starting on the third in his fringe. He didn’t move a muscle, arms tense and back ram-rod straight. John didn’t know what to do. He was completely at a loss for words.  
  
They stared at each other for several minutes. Neither of them moved a muscle- Sherlock still had his hands in his hair and John's hand was still on the doorknob. Neither knew quite what to do. Eventually John just backed out silently, shutting the door behind him with a click. Sherlock sighed and relaxed, applying the curlers into his hair once more. John walked into the kitchen still in shock. He had completely forgotten about Moriarty. He dazedly thought that he fancied some tea. It was only as he was sitting in his chair with his cup of tea that his shoulders began to shake.  
  
Sherlock Holmes curled his hair…with purple curlers. Sherlock-bloody-Holmes, the man who didn’t even bother to shower while on a case curled his hair nearly every day. John wildly speculated whether Mycroft had ever done the same. The mental image of Mycroft curling his hair sent him over the edge and he couldn’t stop giggling.  
  
John narrowly avoided spilling tea all over his lap as his laughter racked his body. His ribs and stomach began cramping and he gasped, struggling to breathe.  
  
“Oh, Shut up!” John heard Sherlock yell heatedly from his bedroom. John laughed even harder and began stamping his feet in mirth. John managed to calm down and he drank his tea with the biggest grin on his face.  
  
John started laughing _again_ when Sherlock strolled into the living room with a head full of curlers wrapped up in a purple cotton sheet.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this picture
> 
> http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mdym8xXaPf1rl1s6lo1_500.jpg


End file.
